Once she finished, she placed a warm linen sheet over me and left me alone for several minutes while she went for my clothes. The warmth seeped into my skin. I closed my eyes and let out a content sigh.

“Are you ready to dress?” she asked upon her return.

I blinked awake and rose onto my elbows to see her carrying a bundle. “Aye. And if you tell me dinner is next, I might just forgo the dress and run for the food.”

She laughed. “You must be starving after your trek. I hear you only had one loaf of bread between you.”

“And some cheese.” I swung my legs over the table as she held up a flowing gown the color of the night sky, a deep inky blue that hung over one shoulder and left the other bare. The edges were trimmed with a thick band of silver thread.

“This color will look nice with your hair.”

I hopped off the table, clutching the sheet against me. The dress was beautiful. “Are you sure I should wear this?”

“Eburacon had it sent down for you, so aye, you should wear it. You don’t like it?”

“I do. It’s very beautiful.”

“Good.” She stepped behind me. “Lift your arms.” I did and she slipped the fabric over my head. It slid down my body like a cool rush of water, pooling around my bare feet.

Jensine began brushing the tangles from my hair. “Aye, I was right. The color is good.” She arranged my hair loosely atop my head, showing off my bare shoulders and neck.

“Shouldn’t I wear a veil?” I asked.

“Oh, Dear Dagda, no. We shouldn’t cover this up. Unless,” she hesitated, “you would like one. I didn’t mean to direct you. I’d be happy to get you a veil...”

“No, it’s fine.” And I supposed it was. I wasn’t in Murias anymore. I wasn’t in hiding. If people didn’t like it, if it reminded them of war and heartache, they could choose to look the other way. I could take it. Question was, could they?

“Here, have a look.” Jensine directed me to the long oval mirror in the corner, standing behind me with a small smile of satisfaction at her work. “What do you think?”

I stared at my reflection.

Seeing myself dressed as my mother had once dressed, as a child of the noble House of Anu should’ve been dressed… I had no words. I never thought to see myself so. For the first time, I didn’t look with depression or regret at the things which made me different. My hair looked nice. My skin was smooth. My brown eyes looked soft and pretty.

For the first time, I liked what I saw.

Tears stung my throat. I should have liked this person all along. No matter what clothes I wore, no matter what anyone said or did to me.

Pride was something I hadn’t felt very often, but now it blossomed like one of the struggling flowers in the frost, finally breaking through the surface of the earth and finding the sun. It was there in the eyes that stared back at me. I was proud of who I was.

I smiled, lifting my chin ever so slightly. Jensine’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “I love it,” I answered.

Alsa appeared in the doorway. “The table is ready.”

CHAPTER 12

I picked up my satchel and followed Alsa from the caverns and into the main building. The gown flowed lightly around my ankles, the faint sound it made like reverent whispers in the quiet corridors.

Alsa opened an arched set of double doors and ushered me into a private chamber where Eburacon waited with his back to me, his long fingers clasped behind his deep green robe.

“Enjoy your supper,” Alsa whispered before closing the door softly behind her.

I smoothed the front of my gown with damp palms, glancing around the chamber with its carved wall panels and thick timber beams overhead. A fire burned in the large hearth. There was seating before the fire. Book shelves lined the walls and were stocked with manuscripts and scrolls. A dining table had been set in the center of the room.

I drew in a deep breath and approached Eburacon.

“Nox of Annwn speaks to you,” he said, turning from the window to study me, his face passive, but his vibrant green eyes glittering with intensity

An instant denial flew to my lips and hung there unvoiced.

“His power clings to you like faint perfume.”

He motioned to the table. I swallowed hard as heat crept into my face. Wordlessly I slid onto a chair, staying silent as he served me from three platters, one of sliced meat, one of wild carrots and onions, and another of berries baked in dough. He filled his own plate then sat opposite from me.

My hands trembled so I clutched them in my lap, but I couldn’t stop the tremble in my voice. I stared at him. “How do you know?”

“Because Dagda is strong in me still, but that, too, fades with the frost.”

I thought of the boundary markers that surrounded the Woodlands. “That’s why your markers were moved closer to Falias. Balen was right. The darkness and frost weaken not only the light from our skies, but the power of the priests as well.”

“But that is a secret no one wants revealed, Deira,” he said, carefully slicing his carrots. “Why concern the people?”

“Why?” I asked incredulously. “Because they need to know they’re in danger. They need to know their power is affected, too.”

“They will soon realize.” Eburacon picked up a jug. “Drink?”

Absently, I nodded and waited for him to fill my cup. My stomach rumbled, reminding me there was food on the table. Food for the taking. I dug in.

“The time has not yet come to reveal all of our weaknesses. There is still time to set things right.”

Forming an alliance to quell Nox’s uprising, I realized, was not enough. If our power was weakening, it would take much more than an army to defeat him. I glanced at the door, but couldn’t bring myself to ask about Balen. He should be here, but I was glad he wasn’t. I still didn’t have the courage to tell him about Nox.

“If Nox is able to speak in your mind, Deira, he grows stronger.” Eburacon paused, piercing me with those mesmerizing green eyes. “He will do anything to keep that power for it means his victory.”

The food was delicious and I had to make myself slow down or I’d be sick. I paused and took a drink. “How can I stop him from entering my thoughts?”

“I will think on this tonight. But you must not listen to him. He will confuse you; use your emotions against you. Be a force against his words. Your will alone is the only thing that can keep him from seeing into your heart.”

My fork clattered to my plate. “I don’t want this, Nox after me, finding the Light, any of it,” I admitted, ashamed by my cowardice.

“Indeed. No one asks for such a burden, do they?” I lifted my head, surprised by his gentle words, to see him smiling at me. He propped his elbows on the table. “You have come this far…”

“I don’t even know what the Lia Fail looks like,” I said miserably.

“It is all things Danaan, the source of power of the Ageless Ones from which we all descend. The very heart and soul of our land. Once, long ago, this power was captured in stone—the Lia Fail, we call it. But it is simply an essence, Deira. It could reside anywhere now.”

“How does one look for an essence? How does one without the power of the Ageless Ones running through her veins detect such a power?”

“Ah, but you do have power. Do you know that if you steal the life force from another, for a brief amount of time, you will possess his power as well? You are a great conduit. You can capture their energy and wield it as your own. That is why your mother was so afraid to leave you. That is why the other halflings before you were so feared. They posed too much of a threat, you see.”

I toyed with my fork. “It doesn’t feel like a gift. It’s something that must be taken from another. I’d be a thief, a parasite, stealing life, or stealing a day or a year from another’s life. It’s too . . . horrible to consider. Besides, I don’t even know if I could control it.”

He acknowledged my words with a somber, thoughtful nod. A deep sigh escaped my lips as I stared at my cleared plate.

“Balen dines with Ferryn,” Eburacon said, reaching over to spoon another helping of the baked dessert onto my plate. “Sydhrs are a strong, unique people, Deira. You must let their leader be your guide. You must trust him to aid and protect you.”

“You know of the foretelling?”

“Aye, I know of it.”

I pushed at the dessert with my fork. “How can he do this when it means his death?”

“How can he not? It is for the good of us all.”

“You must think me selfish. A coward.” The complete opposite of Balen.

Eburacon chuckled softly then brought his cup to his lips. After he drank, he said, “Balen has had many years of this knowledge. He has always known his fate. He accepts it. You have not. Your feelings are only natural.” He sat back in his chair and regarded me for a long moment. “There is a gate deep below the temple.”

A wave of shock spread through me and my fork clattered to my plate.

“It will take you to the land of your father, to the Lia Fail. At dusk tomorrow, I will take you there. Until then, you must eat and prepare.”

I made my way out of the building, taking the time to appreciate the wood carvings on the walls and doors as I went by. Polished for thousands of moons, they shone in the light of the tall lanterns that lit my way. Eburacon’s words still rang in my head. A gate. There was a gate here in Falias. Apparently not all of them had been destroyed after the Old War.

It was night, the air cool against my bare skin as I strolled over the spongy grass to the bridge. The entire grove was quiet and still. Soft orange lights blinked through the trees, coming from the temples and dormitories around the lake. A faint breeze carried the scent of the water and the crisp, clean smell of grass and the blooming wisteria, which grew from ancient roots at each end of the lake and had long ago wound their way over the railings toward the center rotunda.